What It's Like
by just4alaugh
Summary: Not the best at summaries, so here's a snippet - "Donna raises an eyebrow. Her movements are poised, as though rehearsed, yet always undeniably genuine. "You have a date," she deduces. Harvey hesitates; she wants to know with who and for a moment, he wants to tell her. But then he remembers that this thing with Mike... it's new."
1. ONE

Hi there! Spoilers for Suits (best not to read if you haven't finished season three).

The setting for this fic is in season three, just after the part where Mike and Harvey get Ava Hessington (the British oil company lady) cleared of murder charges and the merger between Darby international and Pearson Hardman is over.

The only real change from the show so far is that, in this fic, I'm assuming Mike and Rachel never got together at the end of season two and instead are just good friends. Also, I'm not sure if the lines from the pilot episode are 100% accurate - if they're not, please feel free to correct me.

So yeah, thanks for reading!

* * *

 **I**

 _'_ _We should hire_ you _. I'd give you the $2500 as a signing bonus.'_

 _The words he'd said that fateful day ran through his mind – and, if he was being honest with himself, in and of themselves, they'd been a mistake. A joke the kid wasn't meant to have taken seriously. And yet Mike had._

 _'_ _I'll take it.'_

 _He'd given Mike a look, a warning. 'Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way…'_

 _But in the end, it had. Because Mike had impressed him - had shown Harvey he deserved a second chance. And so Harvey had hired a man who'd never even set foot in any law school, let alone Harvard. He'd hired a fraud._

 _And he hadn't regretted it since._

 _-x-_

Harvey pushes the memory aside and walks with purpose because that's all he knows; how to be confident, even when, deep inside, you don't feel it. And it's the first time in his life that he doesn't feel it. He doesn't know how this will go.

Grey pavement passes underneath him; every step is another opportunity to turn back. But he doesn't. He's done ignoring it; hiding it. Even though this is the worst possible time he could pick. He's never been one to jeopardise important relationships – but he's hoping that, if it comes to it, theirs' can survive… _this_ , whatever _this_ ends up being.

He chose not to take his car and he still doesn't really know why. Of course, walking takes longer, and a part of him wonders if he'll lose his nerve by the time he arrives… but losing his nerve will mean – a) admitting he's too cowardly to go through with this and – b) that he'll have to live with the fact that things will never change.

And he can't deal with either option.

 _Shit, when did I become sentimental?_

 _And too afraid to fight for what I want?_

No.

Harvey hates to use that word in relation to himself; scared. So he stubbornly refuses to believe any part of him is frightened now. He's running on a fuel of determination and exhaustion – because, if he's being honest with himself, he's tired of pretending.

He reaches his associate's building.

God.

His associate.

Shit.

He hopes this doesn't count as harassment. His ever growing list of enemies would simply have a field day…

He enters the building, then reaches Mike's hallway. Despite all the thoughts running through his mind, he doesn't hesitate at the door; he immediately raises his fist.

 _Knock knock knock._

The noise reverberates throughout the hallway. Several minutes pass before the door is opened; and there he is.

Harvey's biggest problem.

Mike goddamn Ross.

And for a moment, Harvey loses his resolve.

Mike looks startled to see him (although there's nothing new about that; he always seems startled when Harvey shows up at his home.) His hair is a mess – kid was probably napping – and his shirt is rumpled.

"Harvey – what's wrong?" His blue eyes are the size of dinner plates; taking in Harvey and his hard, closed expression. He can probably tell there's something subtly different about his boss tonight.

Harvey can read Mike easily; Mike thinks he's mad. Maybe he thinks a deal has fallen through, or something's gone wrong with the disillusionment talks.

Harvey's a lot of things right now, but he's not mad; and, looking at Mike, he's no longer nervous. His shoulders, previously tensed up, relax.

"What do you need me to do?" Mike adds, Harvey's silence probably confirming his fears that something horrible has happened. _Well, depending on how you take this, that may or may not be true,_ Harvey thinks _._

Harvey shakes his head slightly. "No, I… need to talk to you. About something serious."

"Right, as opposed to our usual light hearted conversations about who's bopping who on Downtown Abbey." Mike rolls his eyes.

Harvey raises an eyebrow. "Done trying to be funny?" Inwardly, he cringes – _be nice to him – talk to him smoothly._ But he knows smooth talk won't work here. Mike is… different.

"Oh, I never _try_ to be funny – I just naturally am." Mike's smile fades as Harvey's serious expression remains. In actuality, it takes a lot of willpower for Harvey to fight off a smirk. "Harvey, what's going on – ?"

"Mike." Harvey says his name heavily, with about three different meanings; _listen to me, calm down, get ready for shit to hit the fan._

Mike stands back, waiting.

"I need you to know; I'm not high."

"Er, good. That's always a good way to start a conversation…?"

Harvey rolls his eyes. "And, again, I need you to understand I'm being completely serious here."

"Uh, sure. Is this about the firm – ?" Mike begins.

"No." Harvey cuts him off with a firm shake of the head. "It's not." He looks at Mike, trying to tell him without telling him. The seconds stretch by. _Come on kid, you're smart…_

"So… what is it about, then?" Mike asks slowly, his expression suddenly becoming unreadable. Harvey finds this disconcerting; his whole life revolves around his ability to read other people. "Donna?"

"No –"

"Rachel?" One of Mike's closest friends at the firm. "Or… Scottie?" He adds uncertainly.

Harvey feels a pang of annoyance; he keeps it in check. He shifts his weight so he's leaning against the doorframe. Does Mike really not know? "It's about you, Mike."

The colour drains from his face. "Does someone else know about me…?" His biggest fear; being ousted as a fraud.

Harvey shakes his head. Then he takes a deep breath and puts one hand, heavily, on Mike's shoulder. _Here goes._

He looks at Mike. He knows his mouth is a firm line, but, for once, he wills his eyes to be as transparent as possible. It's harder than Harvey thought it would be. " _Mike_ ," he repeats the name, and his tone says it all.

 _Mike._

 _This is about you._

 _It's been about you for a while now._

He doesn't say it, but he knows Mike can see it. Mike's not bad at reading people himself, when he really tries.

Mike tries to look neutral, to keep his expression unreadable. But he has tells; Harvey picks up on them instantly. Mike's eyes have widened, twin skies of confusion. His hands, previously curled in, are now open; his fingers splayed in shock.

"Well...?" Harvey prompts.

"Shit," Mike finally says. He steps back, slowly. Harvey lets his hand fall away. He tilts his head, but doesn't say anything, realising Mike needs time.

Mike exhales sharply and gives Harvey a long look. Harvey senses that part of him still doesn't believe it. "Come inside," he invites, and now it's Harvey's turn to feel shocked.

He hides his surprise better than Mike and simply raises an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"We should… we should talk. This is some serious shit. If you're… serious, that is." Despite everything, he looks uncertain.

"I am," Harvey says.

Mike moves out of the way, his eyes assessing the older man. Harvey can practically see the gears in his brain whirring, calculating, trying to make sense of this. "Right. Then come on in."

And Harvey enters, closing the door behind him.


	2. TWO

**II**

 _Mike sees Harvey walking away and he realizes with a sinking feeling that, this time, things are different. Harvey doesn't seem inclined to forgive him and Mike doesn't know what to do._

 _He didn't realize stopping the merger meant this much to Harvey – and, to boot, Harvey is no longer getting his name up on the wall. That was the biggest justification Mike had had for doing what he had… At least, on some level, he'd still be helping Harvey get what he'd always dreamed of._

 _Mike remains standing in the lobby of Pearson Hardman, watching Harvey walk out… out… out of his life?_

 _God, he hopes not. That's a terrifying thought._

 _And a part of him wonders_ why _Harvey is so mad at him._

 _And a part of him wonders_ why _he's so determined to claw his way back into the man's life._

 _-x-_

Mike takes a deep breath, letting that particular memory fade. He knows he should focus on the present, but another takes its place – he remembers the first lesson he ever received on how to write a good story; remembers his teacher's face as she drilled into the heads of her attentive class the five fundamental questions to ask – who, what, when, where, why. And, of course, sometimes how.

 _Who?_

He knows who; him. And Harvey. Mike can't say he finds the idea unappealing.

 _What?_

The thought of 'what' is enough to make him blush. Again, Mike can't deny this has never crossed his mind – but he's never believed it to be a real possibility. It's much like his offhand fascination with the concept of time travel; sure, it would be cool (there are a lot of moments in his life he'd love to re-do), but it's never going to happen.

So that leaves _when? Where? Why?_

And, more importantly, why _him_? What's so special about him?

At this point, he realizes Harvey's been staring at him the whole time and suddenly the other man's gaze weighs on him like a blanket. Harvey's standing by Mike's couch; Mike is standing by the wall. There's an ocean of space between them.

"Want some water or… maybe some juice?" Mike asks, to break the silence.

"Did you seriously offer me juice?" Harvey clarifies as he raises his eyebrows. "How old are you, again?"

"Old enough to catch _your_ attention," Mike retorts, mainly out of habit – and certainly before he has a chance to think about how the words sound, what signals he might be sending.

"Not if you're still drinking juice boxes," Harvey counters easily, giving him _the look._ The _seriously-how-can-you-not-be-kidding?_ look.

"I never said it was in those small boxes with an attached straw. And cut me a break – I'm out of beer."

"Lots of lonely nights spent drinking your troubles away? Good thing I came by." Harvey makes a feeble attempt at a joke, but Mike can see the curiosity in his eyes. He's wondering whether it was indeed a good idea, and Mike is too.

They can't go back.

"See, that's not funny because," Harvey adds, his tone lower, closer to gentle, "I made the joke too soon."

"How, Harvey?" And Mike's not talking about the joke. "And please, be honest." Not that he really expects Harvey to lie.

"How?" Harvey repeats, clarifying Mike's choice of question. When Mike nods, he just shrugs. "Does it matter?"

"Yes."

Harvey frowns and Mike figures he won't end up answering, but then he does. "Maybe... it's the fact that we spend so much time together. Maybe it's your mind… You're not afraid to prove me wrong, Mike, and not many people can."

Mike realizes how surreal this moment is; Harvey is actually addressing his feelings. He also understands how difficult it must be for someone like Harvey to do so.

"But," Harvey adds, and Mike's eyes snap to his. "Since we're being honest… _I_ think it's just you. You're you, you're who you are – mind and attitude and ideals – and I …" He hesitates. Mike can tell he's going to deviate from what he truly wants to say, and in the end Harvey doesn't say anything at all – just lets his sentence trail off. But Mike understands.

Harvey's brown eyes continue to hold Mike and a look like that, the way it lingers, well... Mike swallows and it doesn't escape his notice that his heart beat has quickened.

 _Your turn._

Mike stares at Harvey, his brain swimming in Harvey's words and yet also trying to figure out his own; how does _he_ feel?

If Mike's being honest, he's not sure.

He likes the idea of being in a relationship with Harvey. But now that the real thing is staring him in the face, he realizes all he knows with certainty is that Harvey 'like likes' him.

There's no offer of anything beyond that. Will they date? Be exclusive? What will the new dynamic between them be? Can they even last? Mike doesn't know if they can survive a break up…

And yet…

"I don't know… this is just – I've never let myself think about this, you know?" Mike starts babbling. "I just… you're Harvey Specter. I'm Mike Ross. I'm having trouble picturing us together."

Harvey nods. "It's okay Mike. Look, I want you to know, if you're not interested, then nothing needs to change between us. If it comes to it, I can move on." He mentions it so briskly, so matter-of-factly, that Mike feels a pang of emotion… He's hurt.

"Could you… Could you do that?" Mike asks, his tone quiet. "Would it be that easy for you to just… move on?"

"I didn't say it would be easy." Harvey looks away. "But… I'd rather we be friends than nothing."

Mike looks down at his shoes, a little embarrassed. "I'm having trouble picturing us together," he repeats slowly. "And I can think of only one way to fix that."

Harvey looks at Mike. His eyes are alight. "Are you sure?" He asks for the second time that day.

 _Hell yes._

Mike simply looks at him. "I'll come over to you," he decides. He moves towards Harvey, who's now leaning against the back of Mike's couch. Mike feels self conscious. He hopes his cheeks aren't red.

 _God, why am I so nervous?_

Mike stops when he's a step away from Harvey. "Um, can you… close your eyes? It'll lessen the pressure."

"You're kidding, right?" He catches sight of Mike's sheepish look and his mouth twitches. _He's fighting a smile_ , Mike realizes. "How do I know you won't just leave me standing here like an idiot?"

"I guess you don't."

"You've got a lot of quirks, kid." But Harvey smirks and closes his eyes – and despite everything, Mike suddenly feels excited.

He moves towards Harvey, still half expecting the man to jump back and say 'Psych! Got you! Whole thing's a joke.' But Harvey doesn't. Instead, the other man's arms automatically wrap around him, bringing him close, even as Harvey's eyes remain shut. Mike feels his body relaxing and his own hands come to rest on Harvey's chest.

"Anytime now would be good," Harvey murmurs – just as Mike closes his own eyes and kisses him.

-x-

Louis is so furious he's practically fuming and Jessica does not have the patience to deal with him today. Nor any day, really. But it doesn't matter how she feels, she's managing partner first and, as always, she finds the patience somehow. She gives Louis a look. "Is that all?"

"No, it's not goddamn all," Louis fires, his words leaving his mouth at a mile a minute. "We're being sued for malpractice and this is all _his_ fault. I'm just so mad at him! And us – for ever trusting him."

Jessica sighs internally. She has known Louis for a long time; to this day, she can still remember when Louis first began working here, how he slowly got his feet under himself, as he learned all about how a real top tier firm worked. Louis the first year associate was a very different man from the Louis in front of her right now.

"Louis, you've made your point, but we can't do anything more than defend ourselves and do everything in our power to make sure Ava Hessington's anger ends up where it belongs. Directed at _him._ "

Edward Darby.

Harvey's _I told you so._

A mistake she truly regrets.

Louis pouts, but nods. Jessica hopes he's finished venting for the day. "You're right."

"And on that note, I've considered your earlier words and have decided that you're right too. Provided I see no more angry outbursts from you, I'll allow you to handle the disillusionment talks." Jessica gives him another look; this time, a friendlier one. She sees Louis's chest swell with pride. "This is your opportunity to step up, Louis. Now, I suggest you get back to your own clients, not to mention the negotiations. Leave the suit to me and Harvey."

Louis nods and turns to leave. But then he hesitates, quickly shooting Jessica a nervous glance. "Yes. Okay. But if Harvey keeps spending his time at _morning meetings_ and not here, then what chance do we really have? He's not taking this seriously. Listen, Jessica, if you want me to help fight the Suit at any point –"

"I know exactly where to find you," Jessica cuts him off, letting her annoyance taint her voice. "But, for the record, Harvey's not at a morning meeting, he's having brunch with a client who got wind of this malpractice suit and is rattled. And now, more than ever, is the time for _you to be a team player_."

"I know." Louis has the decency to look ashamed. "I'm just worried about the firm, Jessica. I simply want to make sure we're all putting in our best effort."

 _You mean you want to make sure_ Harvey's _putting in his best effort._

She wonders when Louis will learn that an attack on him is an attack on her too? But she also knows Louis is telling the truth when he says he has the firm's best interest at heart.

"Don't be worried," she says simply. "Because we are."

Jessica waits until Louis has left, then allows another three minutes to pass for good measure, before she exits her office. She doesn't stop until she's in front of Harvey's empty office, standing next to Donna's cubicle. "Where is he?"

Harvey should have returned from his meeting half an hour ago.

"He's on his way back," Donna lies, and Jessica decides to let it slide. After all, she values loyalty.

"If he's not at my desk in the next thirty minutes," Jessica says, "I'll assume he's already fixed the Hessington Oil fiasco. Because unless he's working on cutting a deal _right now_ , you have my express permission to tell him to haul his ass into my office and talk some goddamn strategy with me _._ "

-x-

By the time they come up for air, Mike's breathless. His heart's racing, his mind is buzzing and he feels really hot. They're on the couch now, limbs tangled, Mike's arms around Harvey's neck and his hands in his hair. Harvey's arms, for their part, are tightly wrapped around Mike's waist.

"Damn. That was only meant to be one kiss." Mike's gulping down air – and yet, despite the breathlessness, he can't stop grinning.

"What can I say? I'm a great kisser. No one in their right mind stops at one." To prove his point, Harvey kisses Mike's jaw, the corner of his mouth, his cheek, working his way to his ear.

Mike shivers and Harvey takes the opportunity to pull him closer. "If you'd asked me yesterday what I thought I'd be doing today, on my first day off in what feels like forever… Well, fooling around with _you_ wouldn't have made the list."

Mike meets Harvey's gaze; he's pleased to find that the seasoned lawyer's eyes are bright, drinking him in.

Harvey opens his mouth, a mischievous look on his face, when his jacket pocket starts buzzing. His phone. His jacket is currently lying on the floor; Mike had somehow managed to take it off between kisses, as they'd stumbled onto the couch.

"Shit, I can let that go," Harvey apologizes, but Mike knows he can't. So Mike's already moving back, untangling himself (something that requires a surprising amount of self-control from him).

"Take it. I don't mind." Mike smiles, a little giddy. But that's not to say he doesn't realize what's going on. "It's my day off – not yours. I know for a fact you've had a meeting with Groff scheduled for this morning and you should've headed straight back to the firm afterwards."

"Are you asking what inspired my change of heart?" Harvey asks. His usual amusement with Mike colours his tone. He moves towards his jacket and grabs his phone. Harvey frowns as he looks down at the screen, and Mike knows he'll have to leave now.

"I'm guessing something happened there that prompted your spur of the moment confession," Mike says.

Harvey looks at Mike and his expression changes – melts. His face is lighter, happier, than Mike has seen it in a while. "Groff had nothing to do with it. There have been so many times when I've been this close to telling you." Harvey holds up two fingers, barely an inch apart. "Groff just reminded me that I have a lot of courage when it comes to taking risks as a lawyer. I decided it was time I… used that courage for something that would make me happier than winning some stupid case ever could."

It's not Mike's intention to make light of what Harvey has said, but he smiles. "Bullshit," he says gently. "You love winning cases."

"I know." Harvey gives him a look that he hasn't received in a while; the same look Harvey used to shoot at him when they first met, back when Mike used to be a few steps behind. "But this means... more."

It's all Mike can do not to get up and kiss Harvey again; because if he does, there's probably a good chance they'll end up back on the couch. And Harvey needs to head to work; he's already shrugging his jacket back on.

"I'm sorry Mike, but Jessica's demanding I haul my ass back to the firm. I –"

"It's okay, Harvey. Really." A slight smile tugs Mike's lips as he surveys his… _boyfriend? Date? Crush?_ All potential words seem juvenile and inadequate, and besides, what Mike is feeling right now – whatever it is – is much more than a crush.

Harvey moves over to Mike and kisses his forehead. "Bye, kid," he murmurs. He walks all the way to the door of Mike's apartment, then pauses, his hand resting on the door frame. Harvey turns his head back.

"What're you doing Friday evening?" He asks, his voice gruff.

"I've got plans," Mike answers, beginning to find his bearings in their relationship, whatever it has now become. "I've got a date with my boss. I've heard he can be sweet, in a dick-ish sort of way."

"Don't go ruining my reputation now," Harvey grumbles, but he shoots Mike an affectionate look. "How's eight o clock sound?"

"Sounds good."

Harvey nods, closing the door behind him.

Mike's still smiling.


	3. THREE

**III**

Harvey exits the deposition room, a smug smile on his face. He's done it; his apology to Ava Hessington worked wonders. It's a testament to how much Mike has changed him – before meeting the kid, Harvey would have waited until the situation got a lot direr before he'd resort to _that._ Not that his apology had been insincere – because he'd absolutely meant it. It was just that he was only now getting more comfortable (and only slightly so, mind you) with occasionally, truly showing his emotions (yes, despite his outward demeanor and tight regulation of them, he _did_ feel emotions. Every now and then.)

 _Yup, that's why you're so happy,_ Harvey tells himself, as he strides down the corridor. _Your victory._ After all, Tanner's disappointed face had almost been worth the hassle this suit had caused his firm. _It has nothing to do with the fact that later this week, you have a date with Mike._

Because Harvey refuses to believe that he's excited about an event that is still two days away – no, he has more cool than that, he has more control than that.

As Harvey moves to enter his office, Donna gives him a look. He doesn't need her to – he can see Scottie already, looking striking as usual, through the glass walls.

"Good luck," Donna murmurs cheekily, her voice as suave as silk, as he walks past her. At her words, he inclines his head, amused.

"I don't need luck," he quickly retorts, but he does sober up once he's inside his office. There's something in the atmosphere. He realizes he's about to have a serious conversation.

"Scottie." She doesn't turn around to face him; she's looking out his windows, the city sprawled before her. Looking at her, his heart thumps; that pesky emotion – guilt – manages to well up inside him. "I'm sorry," he finds himself saying.

"Are you?" She's still looking out, so he joins her by the window. They stand side by side. His eyes start following a taxi cab, as yellow as the sun, as it weaves through traffic in the street down below. "Your firm's off the hook."

"Are you still staying with him?" Harvey turns his head towards her.

And now she does look at him, gives him that half smile, half chuckle. "I don't know. It's my firm too..."

"No, it's not." And he's angry now, and he knows she can tell. "Scottie, that man doesn't know how to run a firm properly. Everything that happened with Stephen happened under Darby's watch – not yours. You shouldn't be in that sinking ship, because no matter what you do, it's going to go down – and that too in flames. You're too talented to be wasting your time with that."

"Harvey – "

"Work with us. Work here." He looks at her, genuinely hoping she'll say yes, but not expecting her to. And when she says no, he isn't disappointed.

"Harvey, I can't," she says softly, shaking her head. "I can't just leave everything. Not unless... there's a reason to." She gives him a look, her eyes skeptical.

 _Uh-oh._

 _Tricky._

 _This is tricky._

Harvey doesn't know how to say what he needs to say – what she deserves to hear. Because although he'll always care about Scottie, although she'll always mean something to him, although he wants her to be safe and happy – he doesn't love her. Not in _that_ way.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice sounding too stiff, even to his own ears. He feels like a dick, but he doesn't know how to be comforting at the best of times, let alone the times when it's most needed. "Scottie, I..."

She looks at him, immediately understanding the situation. "It's okay, Harvey. I didn't really expect it." She squeezes his arm. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't think I can work here." She kisses him on the cheek, lightly, and steps back. "Goodbye, Harvey."

He doesn't let her walk more than a step before he calls after her. "Scottie – I want you to be happy," he says, because he doesn't know what else to say, and it's true.

"I know," she smiles back at him. She looks sad, but there's a fire burning in her eyes. It's the same fire that was burning when he'd first met her – a fire that, he knows, will continue to burn long after today. She's much like him and looking at her, he knows she'll be fine. She'll find some way out of Darby's mess. "For the record, I hope you're happy too. You definitely look it."

Harvey gives Dana Scott a small smile, then watches her leave.

-x-

"Harvey, are you all right?" Donna asks as he's leaving the office on Friday evening. She doesn't need to elaborate; he gets it. The time is seven thirty – his leaving now (without paperwork, without files, looking free) is akin to a school teacher leaving work at twelve.

"Don't I look it?" Harvey gives her a tilt of his head and his most charming grin.

"You look all dressed up." Donna assesses him, her keen gaze missing nothing – not his new sea-green tie nor his perfectly gelled hair. "What's the occasion?"

"It's been a long week, Donna," Harvey replies. "I think we all deserve a break. You should take the night off too – go home early, or go to the theatre, unwind."

Instead of taking up his offer, Donna laces her hands together and leans forward, resting her chin on her hands. She raises an eyebrow. Her movements are poised, as though rehearsed, yet always undeniably genuine. "You have a date," she deduces.

Harvey hesitates; she wants to know with who and for a moment, he wants to tell her. But then he remembers that this thing with Mike... it's new. Harvey's had time to mull it over, but Mike hasn't - that was clear enough from their conversation in the kid's apartment. And however much he enjoyed their make-out session, Mike needs time to realize that dating Harvey isn't going to be easy. Time to decide if the reality is actually what he wants.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm running a bit late," Harvey says. He decides he'll tell Donna one day, after he's had time to figure out where exactly he and Mike stand. Or she'll figure it out on her own...

"Two for two," Donna murmurs. "I saw Mike this morning. Kid was all excited about some big date tonight too."

"Excited. Really?" Harvey makes sure his tone is casual – disinterested, even. "He said that?"

"Of course not. He was trying to act all cool, as though he didn't even have a date. But I'm Donna. I can tell." Donna mouths the words 'new suit. New cologne'.

Harvey gives her a lopsided smile. "Donna, take the night off." He knocks on her cubicle and leaves.

As usual, Donna gets the last word. "For what it's worth, Scottie was right. You _do_ look happy."

-x-

Mike can't remember the last time he's been this nervous. He's sitting in a comfy chair, in the foyer of a fancy restaurant, waiting for Harvey to arrive. He's casually scrolling through the messages on his phone. Rachel has already sent him a few texts about how her date that evening is going – apparently not too well – and he's really tempted to tell her that he's on a nerve-wracking date of his own.

Mike and Harvey have seen each other many times since that morning in his apartment – after all, they work together. And yet something about being inside the stoic walls of Pearson Specter makes it easy for them to fall into their old routine; he's the rookie, Harvey's the named partner. Harvey gives Mike the grunt work; Mike does it. And although Mike's glad there isn't excessive awkwardness between them at work, he's also acutely aware of the fact that he's never seen Harvey Specter on a date. And after tonight, he won't be able to say that.

Mike looks up and – _shit, shit, shit –_ there he is.

Harvey Specter.

Looking good. Like always.

And Mike can't believe he's never before noticed just _how_ handsome Harvey is. He smirks at Harvey, despite his nerves, because Harvey's here for _him._ And that's not the sort of thing that leaves you feeling bad.

"Hey," he says, as Harvey stops before him.

Harvey looks him over. "Nice suit. Is it new?" He's smirking like he already knows the answer, so Mike decides, for the hell of it, to take the other man's ego down a notch.

"Old. One of Trevor's." He says it with the same seriousness with which he speaks all his lies, and although Harvey nods, the twinkle in his eyes tells Mike his lie didn't quite fly.

"Starving?"

"Try famished," Mike replies, getting up. The two of them walk towards the maitre D'. "Those Lineman briefs were a killer."

If his ten minutes sitting in the foyer, which was decorated with velvet and golden gilt, left any doubt in Mike's mind that this restaurant is top tier, their table removes it. The maitre D' leads them through the fairly large indoor dining room, to an outdoor seating area; essentially a deck. The floor is dark wood and the tables are draped in silky material as black as the night sky surrounding them.

Harvey's picked the place, and Mike has to admit, despite the restaurant's grandeur (which always leaves him somewhat uncomfortable), the tables – with their warm orange lamps and soft seats – are cozy. He likes cozy.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I hid a bunch of briefs Louis had worked on, and he had to stay back all night to finish them?" Harvey says, once they're seated.

Mike's mouth pops open. "As someone who's just spent hours slaving away at them, can I just say – not cool, man."

"I disagree." Harvey smirks. "You did hear the part about them being _Louis's_ briefs, right?"

"Please don't make me think about _Louis's briefs..._ " Mike hesitates, about to concede – but then shakes his head fervently as the memory of his two completely dried out highlighters, causalities of a hard won war, pops into his mind. "You've done a lot of fist-bump worthy things in the time I've known you," Mike decides. "This _isn't_ one of them."

"Oh, there's a real tragedy." Harvey rolls his eyes. "Because we fist bump all the time. Oh, wait – no –" His eyes widen, mocking, "– we don't."

"Because we do _other_ things now, instead," Mike murmurs. He raises an eyebrow cheekily and Harvey rewards him with an amused look.

He leans across the table, closer to Mike, and Mike involuntarily copies him. Underneath the table, Mike's hand is resting on his knee; he suddenly feels the warm pressure of Harvey's hand on top. Harvey's eyes pass over Mike's face – to a spot slightly above his left shoulder. "Louis."

Mike frowns. "It's Mike, actually."

Harvey just gives him a look and indicates, with his head, somewhere to Mike's left. "No. It's Louis. Shit, he's seen me."

The two men surreptitiously shuffle back, Harvey's hands coming to rest by his own plate. Mike turns around in his seat and sees Louis looking towards their table, his expression confused. He mutters something to a waiter passing by him, points at them and makes his way to their table.

-x-

"Harvey. Mike." Louis pauses at their table, looking apprehensive. "What're you doing here?" His mouth twitches.

"We're out on a date," Harvey replies, rolling his eyes at Mike. "What does it look like we're doing, Louis? We're talking business."

Mike chuckles on cue, to sell Harvey's half lie. They've both decided that absolutely no one from the firm – especially Louis or, god forbid, Jessica – should know about the two of them.

Louis eyes them both suspiciously. "Is this about signing Manwell? Because I know I scared him off – but I'm the one who found him. He's still my potential client to bring back."

"Louis –" Harvey begins.

"And I know you're still mad about the disillusionment talks, and Micado, but –"

Mike winces when Louis brings up the cat – Harvey's expression hardens in a way that tells him the other man still isn't over that blunder. "We weren't talking about Manwell," Mike interjects, before Harvey has a chance to bite Louis's head off. Again. "So relax. Take a breath." Louis nods, still looking a bit tentative. "What are you doing here?" Mike adds, to shift the focus off him and Harvey.

"Oh – well – I _did_ have a date," Louis confesses.

"What is it, national date night?" Mike laughs, a little exasperated. When Harvey and Louis both look at him, the former slightly alarmed, the latter curious, Mike's ears flush. "Rachel... also has a date tonight," he supplies weakly, looking away.

"Yeah, well..." Louis shrugs. That's when Mike notices Louis's table only has a single menu resting on it, that his mouth is turned down at the corners, that his shoulders are slumped.

"Aw, Louis." Mike doesn't know what to say. "I'm sorry it didn't work out, man."

"It's no big deal. No biggie." Louis shrugs again, but Mike can clearly see he's upset. "It was a blind date – Ester set me up. Probably didn't set me up at all – or, if she did, it was probably with someone who has four nipples or – worse – is a dog lover. So it's good she didn't actually show up. No big deal."

Harvey looks at Mike and his expression conveys his two main thoughts; _how do we get rid of him?_ And _stop making conversation with him!_

Mike opens his mouth, unsure of what to say. But Louis beats him to it, suddenly releasing a flood of words, as though he can no longer hold them back. "It's just been hard enough with Sheila being so mad at me. The other week she told me she – well – let's just say I'm not the only one she recommends new associates to." He shoots them a meaningful look. "She's been so distant – things have been so rocky – I'm really glad this woman didn't show up today, because it wouldn't have been fair, you know. I miss Sheila." By the time Louis finishes, he looks so sad, so heartsick, Mike really feels for the man – almost to the same extent that he disliked him when they first met.

Louis eyes their table imploringly. "I just..." He chuckles. "It's pathetic, but I guess I don't want to be alone tonight. You know, on the three-month anniversary of the day I first had the honor of meeting Sheila Amanda Sazs." He fidgets, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Mike looks at Harvey; his face looks like it's made of stone. He doesn't appear inclined to grant Louis his wish. Mike widens his eyes a little, tilts his head.

 _Come on. Just dinner._

Harvey's answering glare is clear; _no_.

 _Come on._ Mike nudges his foot under the table.

Harvey sighs and looks up at Louis. When he speaks, Mike can tell how much effort it requires for him to scrape each word out of his mouth. "Why don't you... join us... If you want –"

"Great!" Louis beams, and he's barely gotten the word out before a waiter brings a dish to their table.

"The pork and prawn _shumai_ is ready for Mr. Litt." The man with a goatee graciously places the dish at the table and nods at them.

"Thanks." Louis nods back. "And, not to be rude, but I ordered my dish fifteen minutes ago. Now, if _I_ wanted to make sure my restaurant keeps receiving good reviews, _I_ wouldn't offer slack service. Don't give me that hurt puppy look – make yourself useful and get me a chair to sit on." Louis looks down at Mike and Harvey, triumphant. "I'm dining with my close friends tonight."

Mike watches as Harvey, looking sour about Louis's audacity, takes a long swig of scotch. "So, Louis. Worried your blind date came, saw you and left?"

Mike's left both wincing and fighting a smile, as poor Louis splutters.

-x-

One pork and prawn _shumai_ , five dumplings and several glasses of red wine later, Louis is on a role. Step by step, he's taking Harvey and Mike through his relationship with Sheila. Mike and Harvey grunt every now and then, but in all honesty both men have long since given up trying to follow Louis through his drunken rabbit hole (Mike suspects Harvey never even started).

"And then – she told me she wanted to adopt a cat with me. Oh, wait, no. That was just a recurrent dream of mine... But, damn, we would've made the perfect parents for a new Bruno...If only _I_ was the only one she referred associates to..."

By this point, Mike assumes the act of 'referring associates to' is code for some sort of amorous activity and he only hopes no actual associates were involved.

Nodding along, Mike finally finishes off his glass of red wine (first and only of the night), more out of boredom than anything else; observing Louis in his drunken state is more than enough motivation for him to stay (mostly) sober.

"And listen, Harvey," Louis hiccoughs, pointing his finger at the man. It tilts just like his drunken words. "I know you didn't really mean it when you invited me to sit with you. And I figured you'd spend the night ignoring me. Or bail. But I can see you're really putting your effort into being a great listener, and a great friend."

"I am?" Harvey murmurs as he exchanges a bewildered look with Mike.

Mike grins at him. _I can't believe it either._

"Yeah, totally man. And I get it – I do. _I really do._ I know you support me, no matter what. So you don't need to keep rubbing my thigh anymore."

Harvey freezes, his face a mask. Mike splutters, choking and laughing simultaneously. Louis giggles, not really understanding, and Harvey doesn't say another word until Louis excuses himself to go to the bathroom five minutes later.

"So," Mike says around his grin. "How was it?"

"Not funny." Harvey glares at Mike. "I thought it was _your_ thigh."

Mike cracks up. "Should I be jealous?"

"We're never speaking of this again," Harvey grumbles, frowning. "Goddamit. I may need therapy after today."

Mike just smirks and cheekily squeezes Harvey's knee.

-x-

When Louis finally stumbles back to their table, the two men convince him to call it a night. After a few minutes of arguing, Louis agrees.

"I'll have Ray drop you both home," Harvey says, as the three of them make their way out the door.

"No way. You've done enough for me already," Louis says, starting to sober up somewhat. "We'll just hail a cab."

"We?" Harvey looks confused.

"We?" Mike repeats, equally befuddled.

 _"We,"_ Louis emphasizes, pointing between himself and Mike. "Mike, I know you live near my side of town. We can split a cab." He frowns. "Unless you've moved?"

"How do you know where I live?" Mike splutters, utterly at a loss.

Louis just rolls his eyes, slaps Harvey on the back and drags Mike away by the arm. "Come on, Mike, let's get you home before bed time."

It's only eleven thirty, but Mike doesn't argue too much because he knows someone probably should keep an eye on Louis and make sure he arrives home in one piece.

Mike turns his head; the last he sees of Harvey is his blank face as he watches Louis go home with his date.

-x-

"Louis," Mike says, during the cab ride back. "Call Sheila."

"What?" he slurs.

"Call Sheila. Tomorrow. It sounds like what she really meant, when she was talking to you about associates and other firms, is that she wanted to be exclusive _with you_."

Silence. Louis digests his words. Then, "Are you sure?"

"Trust me."

And Louis is silent once more. Mike figures he's mulling it over, maybe planning what he'll say to her. But then he peeks at the other man and realizes that Louis has fallen asleep. As his snores fill the cab, Mike glances out the window at the dark night and sighs.

He can't deny he's a little disappointed that his date with Harvey was interrupted, even if Louis was in dire need of support tonight. As if to really hammer it home and remind Mike what he's missed out on, Louis turns in his sleep and his head comes to rest on Mike's shoulder; his arm sprawls over Mike's stomach.

 _I don't get paid enough for this._ Being friends with Louis certainly has it's challenges.

Mike sighs again, just as his phone starts to ring. He glances at the caller ID. "Hey," he answers, smiling.

"Is he asleep yet?" Harvey's voice, deep and somewhat annoyed, surrounds him.

"How'd you know?" Mike asks. "Oh, wait, let me guess. Because you -"

"Read the man," Harvey finishes for him. "And with the amount of alcohol in _that_ man, I'm surprised he managed to stay awake for as long as he did."

"Hmm." Mike's mouth twitches.

"Mike. This situation is _not funny_."

"It's a little funny," Mike gives in, chuckling. "Do you realize Louis has gotten more action from both of us tonight than we have from each other?"

"Is he spooning you? Drunken Louis is a cuddly sleeper."

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that."

"Lucky for you, I'm going to tell you anyway; I've attended one too many office parties." Mike can hear the smirk in Harvey's voice. "I've seen Louis and many other partners at their worst."

"Even Jessica?" Mike asks, curious.

Harvey chooses to ignore that (and Mike bets he's rolling his eyes.) "I did not expect the night to end with you and Louis riding off into the sunset." He sounds like he doesn't know whether to be annoyed or amused.

"It's well after sunset Harvey." Mike takes a breath. "We knew it wouldn't be easy. That we'd have to keep up appearances around PS staff." Mike lifts a shoulder, though of course Harvey can't see it. "This was just a taste of what that'll be like."

Harvey's silent for a few moments. "You're not tired, Mike."

"And that's not a question." Mike's smile becomes a grin.

"Come back to my place, once you drop him off. We'll... do things right." And Mike can just imagine Harvey's exasperated, flat expression as he adds, "Just you and me. _No Louis._ "

* * *

AN: Eep - I had originally written individual thank you's to the people who had reviewed the previous chapter and thanked those following/favouriting. But when I updated this chapter (slight changes/fixing small typos etc) somehow that didn't save! : O So, to reiterate, thank you to those lovely people who reviewed/fav/followed the previous chapter! (And ofc, to those who do so on this or any other future chapters haha ;) )


	4. FOUR

**AN:** Hey guys. This chapter took a while for me to finish  & post so thanks for the patience!

This chapter is essentially based on **episode 12, season 3,** and the events that occur in it. (That's the one where Louis thinks Mike faked one of his grades in a Harvard ethics paper and asks him to apologise to Gerard.)

There's another note from me at the end - but, in the meantime - happy reading.

Oh - disclaimer - anything related to Suits does not belong to me.

* * *

 **IV**

MIKE paces back and forth in Harvey's office, anxious for him to return. Every time he blinks, he sees it all slipping away – his job, his friends, his second chance. Left, right, left, right… Harvey's carpet, the glass windows, the record collection. Mike's not ready to say goodbye to this office, to this building.

He's very aware of the fact that this time, there's no old life left to go back to. Trevor's a lost cause. He and Jenny will never be simply friends again. And, more importantly than either of them, Grammy… this time, she won't be there to pick up the pieces. To help him, like she's always done, and in a way no one else can – just by being _there_.

By existing.

Mike suddenly finds breathing difficult – because it's like he's hearing the news for the first time. He remembers Rachel's face; tear stricken and so, so sad. He'd been preparing and cleaning the apartment he'd bought for Grammy (and he hasn't set foot in it since). Rachel had found him, hugged him and told him gently that Edith Ross had passed away; but despite the quiet tone of her voice, the words were too loud, too real – a harsh slap in the face. They had knocked him into a new world; a world where everything was the same, except for one important thing.

Damn, Mike thinks. _Damn_.

Alone.

He feels alone.

 _Breathe, Mike. Breathe._

He leans against the window, needing to steady himself, and sees something glittering from the corner of his eye. He's caught sight of a record that was produced by Gordon Specter. Black, with silver lettering; the cover art essentially consists of photos of the 'old band', as Harvey affectionately refers to them.

Mike notices that his left hand, pressed against the cool glass, is shaking slightly. He stills it.

 _You'll still have Harvey_ , he reminds himself. But his own inner voice is small. Uncertain.

Because, for how long?

Mike slowly moves forward and gently touches the record. If he's being honest with himself, he's insecure. Harvey fell for him as he watched Mike become a lawyer, watched him learn, grow and – essentially – dominate the law (albeit in a manner that involves a hell of a lot more caring). Mike wonders that if – no, _when_ (because if it's not this time, it'll be another time) – this all goes to shit and Mike's… nothing… will the appeal be gone?

"Fuck," Mike mutters, annoyed with himself. Dwelling on thoughts like this isn't helpful; he should know better.

Besides, Mike doesn't want to be the type of person whose life revolves around their significant other. No, he wants more than that – he wants to wake up every day and be useful; he wants to wake up every day and practice law.

Mike closes his eyes.

He came from nothing, clawed and scraped his way through life, and got given a chance that he still isn't sure he deserved. But whether or not he deserved it, he damn sure _wanted_ it and if it has to end, it has to end.

 _So this isn't sad_ , Mike tells himself firmly, finally beginning to feel calm. _This is inevitable._

Mike leans against Harvey's enormous windows once more, deciding to wait patiently for the older man.

-x-

It officially became a problem three days ago, but, in actuality, trouble had started brewing long before then; two weeks after Mike had urged Louis to call Sheila, the senior partner had finally gotten a clue (or maybe it had just taken that long for his hangover to wear off and the cab ride conversation of that fateful night to be recalled), grown a pair and called Sheila.

Sheila's response had confirmed what Harvey had suspected for a while – that the woman must have a very poor screening process – because, for some unfathomable reason, she'd been delighted to hear from Louis. The guy had ended up in the Harvard file room, getting up to God knows what with her.

Normally, what Louis did in his spare time wasn't something Harvey wasted his time thinking about. But, unfortunately, the file room was also where Louis had decided to do some snooping around (the goddamn rat). He'd ended up discovering that there was no file for a Mister Michael Ross.

Yeah.

Louis's next step had been to order Mike's Harvard transcripts (Donna's doing; and it was a good idea, the best way to try to get him to back off). And, temporarily, it had worked.

Donna had come by Harvey's office four days ago to inform him that Louis was, once again, none the wiser about Mike's little secret. "So, Harvey, relax." She had gently flipped back her red hair and looked him over, her gaze lingering on his tense shoulders. "Mike's in the clear. And so are you."

Harvey had shrugged and tried to act nonchalant; smiling and waving her off. He had been aiming, for her benefit, to be the type of relieved he would be if Mike were merely an associate and not… everything he really was to him (which was, incidentally and undeniably, _everything_. It equally scares and mystifies Harvey, sometimes, that there's nothing he isn't willing to do for Mike).

Donna had given him a sly smile as she'd left his office and he'd had the strangest feeling there was more she'd wanted to say. Harvey had wondered, briefly, whether his poker face was slipping.

But as seconds had turned into minutes, and then even those piled up into hours, he'd still felt a little tense. That, in itself, was proof that he _wasn't_ slipping – because things had gone to shit the next day, when Louis had realized that Mike had gotten (courtesy of Lola) an A+ in Gerard's class.

And the rest is history, because the resulting back and forth between Mike and Louis had led to this; Harvey Specter, a first class plane ticket and a threat wrapped tightly in Gerard's name.

It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.

Harvey doesn't know how he really feels about heading back to Harvard. He can remember his last visit to his alma mater, although it happened many months ago. He didn't expect to be back so soon – and that too to see a man whom Harvey believes, deep down, is, aside from being a pretentious dick, also truly ethical.

To be fair, Gerard is one of the few lawyers who can actually afford to be, having never chosen to practice law in the real world. Still, ethical is ethical and Harvey… well, he can still clearly recall how Gerard spent his entire law education looking down on him.

Harvey sighs, tapping his fingers on his knee impatiently. He's in the plane right now, and wishes the time would pass more quickly.

An almost forgotten memory starts playing in Harvey's mind; he remembers a time when, fed up with his tactics and incessant arguing, Gerard had rounded on him in front of the entire lecture theatre. "Mr. Specter," the Professor had asked, looking at him imperiously. Gerard's hands had been tucked behind his back, his eyes had been stark and grim. "Is there any line you _wouldn't_ cross?"

The words hadn't been a compliment.

 _Well_ , Harvey now finds himself thinking. _Is there?_

He sighs again.

Harvey knows he's not like Tanner; there are some lines even he wouldn't dare blur. And he also knows this line of thought is irrelevant.

This is for Mike.

He hasn't even done it yet and, already, he's not sorry and he knows he won't be – not if this works.

 _Goddamit, let this work._

-x-

It's well past eleven thirty when Harvey finally walks into his office and Mike can tell instantly that his plan didn't work.

 _Damn._

Harvey looks surprised to see Mike there and raises his eyebrows, but Mike doesn't see why; did Harvey really expect him to just sit at home, twiddling his thumbs? The older lawyer must understand that Mike can read how his trip went, because instead of saying anything about Boston, he just shakes his head and asks Mike why he's so calm.

Mike answers honestly. "Because you've taught me better. I trust in you."

"Well, don't," Harvey says, sounding bitter.

Mike blinks. He's surprised by Harvey's tone. "What?" _Did I miss something?_ "Harvey, I don't understand? You're the one that taught me that if there's a gun pointed to your head –"

"I _know_ what I taught you."

"And _I_ know that even though this didn't work, there'll be something else that…" Mike trails off at the look on the other man's face.

Harvey glares. "Don't you get it, Mike? I failed!" He yells. "There's no other plan – I don't have a plan B! Because guess what, I'm no superhero, and _I failed_. Gerard's coming and that's that and we're – _you're…_ " He gestures helplessly, trailing off. He looks at Mike, his expression a strange mixture of frustrated and desperate. Mike probably looks bewildered; that's certainly how he feels.

Harvey sinks down on his couch heavily. He pours himself a drink and downs it.

Mike watches him for a few moments, silent.

Then, slowly, he sighs and sits down on the couch, next to Harvey. The older man looks defeated; it's in the slouch of his shoulders, in the way he won't quite meet Mike's gaze.

"Harvey." Mike pauses, unsure of what exactly to say next. Their relationship is based on trust, yet it's shown through their actions more than it is conveyed by their words. But Mike's feeling brave tonight, and it's late (so Mike's certain that there's no one else left at the office). He decides to be as honest as he'd like.

Mike squeezes the other man's shoulder. "It's not your fault. I don't actually expect you to fix everything." When Harvey looks at him, unbelieving and slightly annoyed, Mike just smiles. "In fact, the fact that you can't fix this just proves what I've suspected all along. Harvey Specter, I _do_ believe you're human after all."

Harvey tilts his head. "Did you just meet me? Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No," Mike answers simply, leaning back against the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. Relaxing. "But, see, I know that you know that no matter what I say or do, deep down, I feel like crap tonight. And nothing will make you feel better while I still feel like this. You know, because you _care_ and all that."

Harvey frowns. "Do you have another point – or a better point? You know how I feel about the 'c' word."

Mike laughs; at least Harvey's not denying outright that he cares anymore. It's progress. "Nope, sorry, that ship is long gone. You can't claim not to care anymore – not after our third date –" _And certainly not after tonight_. Mike raises his eyebrows, attempting to tug Harvey towards him by his tie. "Remember that one?"

Harvey groans and rolls his eyes. Instead of letting Mike tug him closer, he pulls the younger man towards himself. "You insisted on meeting me there. Rode that goddamn bike of yours. And that damn taxi driver –"

"I tried to stop, he tried to stop. But he was going too fast…" _And he hit me._ Mike decides not to say it, because Harvey's glaring at him with a 1000-watt stare. Luckily, no one had been seriously injured. "All I had was a minor concussion," Mike adds, somewhat defensively. "Practically a slap on the wrist. I only wish my bike had gotten off as easy."

By this point, Harvey has pulled Mike onto his lap. Mike presses a gentle kiss below Harvey's jaw.

Harvey softens. He makes a contented noise and pulls Mike closer, as if he needs to reassure himself that Mike is all right. "Okay, Mike. I'll bite." He slowly starts to untuck Mike's shirt. "Is there a reason you're bringing this memory up tonight of all nights?" He sounds a little tired. Mike suspects he can guess where this is going.

"You sat by my side the entire night. Took hell of a lot of _care_ of me," Mike murmurs softly, against Harvey's neck. Harvey's hands start tracing meaningless patterns on his back and Mike smiles. He knows the older man doesn't trust himself to speak, so he kisses Harvey below his ear, nice and slow.

Then he pulls back. Takes a deep breath. "Look, I'm just saying, some things are more important than this." And by _this_ , he means Pearson Specter and their lie.

"Like health?" Harvey grunts.

"And _us_ ," Mike adds, somewhat shyly. He gestures between them, entwined as they are.

Harvey closes his eyes and his hands still. "Mike," he begins, his tone a warning. Because he can definitely see where their conversation is going now.

"Harvey, I'm going to resign." Mike looks at him squarely. "Tomorrow. And you're not going to try and stop me, or put your job on the line for me."

Harvey meets his gaze, his brown eyes unreadable. "Mike, this isn't right. This isn't fair." He sounds frustrated. "I can't let you do this. We're a team."

"Yes. We are." Mike smiles again. It's a small smile, a half hearted tug of one corner of his mouth. "But this isn't about what you can let me do. And this isn't about me doing what I feel I should do. It's about me doing what I want to."

"And you want to leave?" Harvey doesn't believe it for a second.

"I _want_ to protect the man who gave me my second chance," Mike says, his tone firm. And he hopes that Harvey can see in his eyes and on his face that arguing will be pointless.

To Mike's surprise, Harvey does. Because, slowly, he smiles – but it doesn't reach his eyes, which don't look any less concerned.

"What?" Mike asks, narrowing his own eyes. He worries Harvey thinks this is a joke. "I'm serious."

"I know." Harvey's smile lingers, although he's now looking out his glass walls, his eyes fixed on the empty firm. "You're too smart for your own good. You have quite a way with words." Harvey shrugs; a quick, yet smooth, lift of one shoulder. "Fine. It's your call, Mike."

Mike knows that Harvey's unhappy with this decision, but he seems willing to abide by it. And that's good enough for Mike. So he nods and tries to ignore the part of him that's dreading tomorrow. "Yes. It is."

"And you're 100% sure?"

"I'm 100% sure. Even if we weren't together, this is what I would do. Because, first and foremost, you're my friend, Harvey."

This makes Harvey pause. Inwardly, Mike cringes at the way his words come across. _Obviously, we're more than that too_ , he wants to add. Before he can, Harvey scoffs and looks back at Mike through his lashes, holding his gaze for a slow five seconds; and despite the gravity of their situation, his eyes flicker, ever so slightly playful.

"First and foremost… I'm your friend?" He repeats. His hands circle around to Mike's stomach and the movement makes Mike shiver. Gently, he shoves the younger man. "Let's go home."

And Mike wants to.

But…

"I know that look." Mike frowns. "That's your 'I-have-a-plan' look."

"I do _not_ have an 'I-have-a-plan' look," Harvey protests. He scoffs again. "Kid, are you forgetting that I'm a lawyer? And a poker player? And that I never lose at either of those things?"

"Yeah, yeah. So am I, and I count cards, and I don't lose either," Mike counters, counting his points off on his fingers. He shakes his head. "Harvey, you just agreed that you won't stop me from resigning."

"Yeah, _if_ it comes to it. There's still one more thing I can try."

Mike laughs; it's a sarcastic sound. "You've already tried everything you possibly could. Gerard's coming."

"This doesn't involve Gerard," Harvey says, looking serious. "I can try just… talking to Louis."

Mike leans back, mulling over Harvey's words. _Talking to Louis._ He purses his lips. Opens his mouth. "Tomorrow morning?" The day of Gerard's lecture. "That's cutting it close."

"Yeah, I know. But I'll remind him that he and you have something; friendship. And he'll risk throwing it away if he goes through with his demand."

Looking at Harvey, Mike finally understands that this is just as difficult for Harvey as it is for him. It's a strange realization. Although it doesn't leave Mike feeling any better, it does make him feel less alone.

"Do you honestly think this will work?" Mike doesn't know whose hopes he's more afraid of getting up; his or Harvey's.

Harvey shrugs.

Mike sighs and smiles ruefully. He leans in and kisses Harvey gently, simply enjoying the other man's presence. _I'm sorry I'm making you worry_ , he wants to say. But he knows Harvey wouldn't want him to feel this way; he'd brush Mike's words aside.

Mike pulls back and starts to get up. "You're right. Let's go home."

Harvey nods. But he doesn't move to get up himself; instead, Harvey watches Mike as he tucks his shirt back in, tightens his tie and grabs his bag from Harvey's desk. Mike knows that that intricate lawyer brain of Harvey's is thinking about something, but he has no idea what. He has to admit; he feels a little cold without Harvey's warmth around him.

"Your place or mine?" Mike asks.

Harvey suddenly shoots him a look that he has no problem interpreting. "That's not really a question."

-x-

"Are you mad?"

Harvey's face clenches and he nods. The two of them are lying in Harvey's bed, watching the early morning light filter through the windows. Mike's feeling comfortable, leaning against the headboard, hands clasped on his stomach, warm duvet surrounding him. He doesn't want to get up. He wishes he could just stay here forever.

Next to him, Harvey's still lying down, looking up at the ceiling.

It's D-Day.

Time to face the music.

"At me?" Mike's teasing, because he knows the answer.

"At Louis." Harvey sighs.

And although Mike's anxious about the day, he understands that the person whose really at fault here is him. He's the fraud. So although he wants to be annoyed with Louis too, he isn't. "Louis is just being Louis," he says.

"Exactly. He needs to try being someone else for a change. Someone less problematic."

Mike chuckles and Harvey turns his head, taking Mike in. "You look like a corpse. You need more sleep," he declares.

In his defense, Mike had tried his best to sleep properly last night, but his dreams had left him tossing and turning. "So do you," Mike points out. "Err, need more sleep. You don't actually look like a corpse – which, can I just point out, is really unfair. Why can't all of us look as handsome after five hours of restless sleep?"

Harvey rolls his eyes, although he's pleased with the compliment. Mike can tell. "I made a deal with the devil; sold my emotions for eternal handsomeness."

"Well, I'll be damned. The associate rumour mill was actually right about something." When Harvey looks at Mike, somewhat surprised, Mike laughs.

-x-

Louis watches Harvey walk away, and the other man's words are still ringing in his head. He's alone in the empty conference room, now set up for Gerard's lectures. The food he's so painstakingly selected surrounds him. All the planning, all the scheming – and all the forgiving. All he's asking for now, is that Mike have the courage to ask one more person to forgive him. The person he originally wronged.

 _If you were really my friend, you wouldn't be asking me to do this._

He's still unable to comprehend his earlier encounter with Harvey. It's rare that the two of them have a conversation, let alone one where they disagree, and don't end up yelling at each other.

 _No, Louis. A friend just wouldn't hold it against you if you don't._

It's the closest Harvey has ever come to begging for something – although, of course, it's still a far cry from begging. It baffles Louis, sometimes, just how much loyalty Mike inspires from Harvey.

And what about _him_? How much loyalty is he willing to show Mike?

Louis doesn't know what he should do.

He loves the law; he loves rules. He loves to win, to gain power and respect by following them – not bending them like Harvey, nor destroying them like Mike has done. And he hates phoneys'. And he loves Harvard.

But a part of Louis (probably a weak part that Ester somehow managed to influence during their childhood) does want to let it go, for Mike's sake…

The final nail in the coffin is struck when Louis is walking to meet Gerard, and he sees Harvey and Mike. They're standing in Harvey's office. Mike looks nervous; but when Harvey shrugs, clearly mouthing an 'I don't know' to a question Louis doesn't hear, but whose premise he can easily guess, Mike suddenly seems to grow determined. He seems to be steeling himself for something difficult.

 _Shit, he's actually going to do what I want_ , Louis thinks. Then he glances to the left and sees the elevator doors open; Gerard steps onto the floor. It occurs to Louis, for the first time, that Harvey and Mike are both actually right; there's no chance in hell the ethics professor will forgive Mike.

And seeing Mike, Louis realizes that Harvey's right on another count too. There is friendship between him and Harvey – but also between him and Mike. Mike, who, despite all of his faults, was the first associate from Pearson Specter to actually mud with him.

So when it comes to it – when Mike stumbles up to Louis as he's guiding Gerard down the hall, about to say something, and Gerard is by Louis's side, looking perplexed, and Harvey's hovering behind Mike, supporting him like he always does (whether Mike's aware of it or not, Louis certainly is) – Louis brushes Mike aside. Tells him to apologize to Gerard and be gone; and Gerard returns the favor.

"I accept your apology. But, I think the one you should really apologize to is Louis," Gerard says, being his usual regal self.

Mike turns to him. "I'm sorry, Louis." Mike's apology rings with sincerity, just like every action Mike takes.

Well, _almost_ every action.

As Mike walks away, his relief clearly outlined in the loose set of his shoulders, the extra zip in his step, Louis must admit he's relieved too. After all, it's difficult for him to make friends. So he shouldn't be surprised that, deep down, he's actually happy about the fact that he's managed to forgive Mike for his biggest mistake.

He gets to keep one of his few friends.

-x-

Jessica decides to stop by at her apartment after her court appearance. She's not tired, but she is sad. She misses him, because even though he was her ex-husband, he was also one of her closest friends. Once, he used to be the closest person to her. And those sorts of feelings never die, even if the romantic ones do.

She plans to have a drink by herself, then regain her composure and head back to the firm. Naturally, she's more than surprised to find Harvey waiting for her in her home.

"Well, I must say. I'd never expect to find you here, at a two pm on a workday." Jessica frowns as she stares at Harvey, who looks right at home. He's already mixing two drinks, settled easily on one of her barstools.

He looks up at her and smirks. "See, now you know how I always feel about you popping up in my house." Not that she's done that in a while.

"Oh. So how _exactly_ do I feel right now?" She asks him, raising an eyebrow and hiding her amusement well. She sees him hesitate – squirm for just a second – before he laughs.

"Delighted to see me, of course. Just as I'm always delighted to see you."

"Nice save." She grins despite herself, nodding at him and accepting the drink he slides in front of her. They're now sitting side by side. "But Harvey, why are you really here? Is everything at the firm all right?"

"Everything's fine." He looks relaxed, so she believes him. "How's everything with you?"

Ah. So he's here for her. She wonders why she's so surprised by this. "Harvey, we've already discussed Quentin. You've already shown your support, and I appreciate it. You don't need to keep taking time out of your busy day..."

"I know. But we're family. I thought you could use a drink with some family after your court appearance today." He takes a sip of his drink. "Word on the street is, you nailed it."

"Thanks. And you're right. I could." They finish their drinks together in comfortable silence. Then they have another. "You know, you never got married," Jessica murmurs, not too sure herself where the words are coming from. She decides to blame the scotch, although she and Harvey both know she's a pro at holding her liquor. "Never really had a serious relationship, as far as I can tell."

"Well, you and I don't exactly share our personal lives with one another," Harvey points out.

"No, but I can usually tell with you."

"Usually…" He murmurs it so softly; she wonders if she imagined it.

"And although I wouldn't trade my time with Quentin for anything, sometimes…" She hesitates. "Sometimes I think – when I'm obviously not in the right frame of mind," she emphasizes; Harvey simply responds with his usual amused grin, "– that you're not wrong about staying away from serious relationships. They carry their emotional toll." And she hates it when she's overwhelmed with emotions. Thankfully, it doesn't happen often.

Harvey's silent for a long time, and it's actually uncharacteristic. She thought he'd be revelling in the compliment.

"I guess you don't – can't – really understand what I mean," she reasons.

He grunts. "I might understand more than you think." Those are unusual words to hear from him. Jessica looks at Harvey quizzically. "I… am in a serious relationship, actually." His voice gives nothing away, he may as well have told her the Swinden-Parks merger was successful, or that Harold had been a bumbling, clumsy associate.

"Ah." There's a distant, tiny part of her that's still the Jessica she usually is, that's not submerged in her grief for Quentin – and that part is shocked to hear such a statement from Harvey. Despite everything, Jessica smiles. She suddenly feels less alone, because he trusts her enough to share this with her. "I hope it works out."

"Me too."

She takes a swig of her drink. She remembers when she first met Quentin, their first date. The first time she met his friends. How he never met hers. "Maybe I'll meet them one day."

"Maybe." Harvey takes a swig of his drink too.

-x-

Mike's head is bent over paperwork, headphones blocking his ears, his eyes glued to the mindless legal jargon on the pages in front of him. Harvey watches him from the doorway of the bullpen, taking in the sight for a minute.

His associate.

His man.

He strides towards Mike and tugs his headphones out. Mike looks up and his face splits into a smile.

"Working a bit late, aren't you?" Harvey asks, his tone off hand.

"It's only eight pm, Harvey," Mike retorts. "I recall something to the effect of you bragging that, in my position, they thought you practically lived here."

"Believe me, the impression your actual working hours fail to convey, your hair makes up for. Ever heard of a comb? The slept-in look is getting old." Harvey's words make Mike smile wider. "What?" Harvey raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, nothing. Except that, in Harvey-speak, what you just said translates to 'I love your amazing hair.' " Mike's looking up at him, eyes glittering with mischief. Not that either of them have said that – love – to one another. At least, not aloud and in so many words.

"Does not," Harvey protests, half heartedly.

"Please. Your mocking is how you show your affection."

"You make me sound messed up," Harvey points out.

"I call it like it is," Mike laughs. "No, but seriously, Harvey." He lowers his voice. "I'm just really glad to still be here. Thought I'd put some extra hours in and finish Louis's briefs tonight."

And he'd really wanted to celebrate with Mike, too. _Goddamnit Louis,_ Harvey thinks, _do you always have to get in the way?_ But he can't be too annoyed with him; not after this morning.

Harvey stares at Mike, feeling proud and ridiculously happy. There are two big conversations he wants to have with the kid, but they'll have to wait. Tonight, Mike needs to enjoy his win.

"Okay. Feel free to stop by my place later tonight." Harvey leans against Mike's cubicle, quickly looking around to make sure the bullpen's still empty, and, feeling reckless, he tugs Mike towards himself and kisses him.

Mike's surprised for a second; then he's kissing Harvey back.

Harvey slowly pulls back and he's pleased to see Mike's eyes are wider and darker than before.

"Congratulations, kid. I'm glad you're still here."

And with that, Harvey walks out.

-x-

 _Holy shit._

Rachel slowly backtracks, then gracefully turns around. "Congratulations, kid." She can hear Harvey murmuring to Mike, his tone unusually soft and gravelly. She's never heard him speak to anyone like that before; she quickens her pace. "I'm glad you're still here."

She speed-walks – practically runs – to the ladies' restroom and doesn't stop until she's in front of the furthest stall from the door. It's a testament to her unrealized sneaking skills that she manages to be both fast and silent. Rachel stares at herself in the mirror.

She looks shocked.

 _What the hell?_

 _Harvey and Mike?_

 _Harvey._

 _And._

 _Mike._

It's mind-blowing!

All she'd planned to do, as she'd walked towards the bullpen, was give Mike the Jefferson files he'd been asking her for all day. Instead, she'd ended up stopping dead in the doorway. Because there Mike was, sitting at his desk, in his little cubicle, with Harvey freaking Specter attached to his face.

Harvey Specter, as of Pearson _Specter_.

So, naturally, she hadn't waited to see what would happen when either Harvey or Mike caught sight of her; both men had had their eyes closed and Rachel had marched her ass right out of there.

"Whoa," Rachel says to her reflection, running her hands through her hair.

She's suspected Mike's been in some sort of relationship for a while – they're good friends, and lately he's been busier than usual, dressing up every now and then. She's just assumed it was nothing serious, merely something casual; otherwise he would've told her. And maybe it isn't, but Mike doesn't seem like the type of person to get into a relationship with someone he knows as well as Harvey – who is, after all, his boss – unless it is.

She has so many questions. She's so surprised. But there's also a part of her that's worried for him – because who knows what Harvey's thinking; he doesn't strike her as the safe choice, as far as relationships go.

"Calm down," she instructs herself. "You're going to be a lawyer one day. You will deal with this news like a goddamn professional."

She takes a deep breath, forcibly relaxes her shoulders and exits the bathroom. Calmly, she walks back to her office. And the cool she's worked so hard to restore is nearly shattered when she sees Mike waiting for her.

"Rachel." He smiles at her. "Do you happen to have the Jefferson files, by any chance?"

And all she can think is _Yeah, Mike, I do. Do you happen to have a relationship with your boss that you're hiding from your best friend, by any chance?_

It takes her a moment to respond. "Yeah, I do." She smiles, a little flustered. They're still in her hands; she holds them out to him. "I was in the bathroom," she explains, without thinking it through. "I was just going to find you next."

Mike blinks at her. "You, err, took the files into the bathroom with you?" He shoots her a bemused grin.

Idly, Rachel wonders if it's the sort of grin that drives Harvey insane, or whether he loves it. _Oh god, are they in love?_ Again, she's struck by the weirdness of the situation.

"Um, yeah." The awkwardness only increases. "I don't like to leave important files just lying around. Where I go, they go." She wants to wince at her explanation.

Mike gives her a look. "Okaaaay. No one can say you don't give 110%, eh? Well, thanks, Rachel." He cautiously takes the files from her hands and moves towards the doorway.

Rachel watches him leave. An irrational part of her wants to confront him, to yell – 'you were kissing Harvey!' But he didn't tell her. So, clearly, he doesn't want her to know. Rachel feels hurt, even though a part of her understands that a relationship like theirs must come with it's challenges. (If they're even in a relationship. For all she really knows, that was their first kiss.)

But Mike looks truly happy, so for now she decides to keep silent.

Of course, that doesn't stop her from hoping, as she sits down in her chair and fires up her laptop, that Mike will tell her one day. Because, boy, does she have questions.

* * *

 **AN:** So, what d'ya think? Hopefully it was good? Definitely less humour than the last one, but I really wanted to explore this episode in a 'marvey' context. Anyway, I'd just like to thank the now 15 people following, and the 9 people who have favourited, this story! Your support means a lot.

And again - another special thanks to the people who took time out to review this story - I rlly appreciate the effort you've put into your reviews. : )

To Zimdan19: Haha thank you too! I am SO GLAD other people (besides just me) found it funny.

To Liv Strange: I'm happy you like the writing! And that you enjoyed the "thigh" scene. As for the dialogue, I'm SURE you could write some kickass Suits style dialogue. I definitely suggest giving it a go - as long as you have fun writing, that's all that counts, right? ; ) And haha, I do speak English fluently. Thank you for your awesome review!

To Eniluap12: Donna is Donna (man she'd be such a cool friend to have around). Thanks so much & I'm glad you enjoyed Louis's interruption x D

To carefreezoe: Thank you! It really makes my day to know you laughed at the scenes : D (I hope this chapter was interesting in it's own way.)


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